


Guns and swords

by 0akdown



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Demonstuck, M/M, Mention of the Trolls, surprisingly even with a plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:12:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 12,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0akdown/pseuds/0akdown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk Strider, the famous leader of the demon pack Strider-Lalondes was captured by Jake English, the leader of EHEC. And is being tortured for information. There's only one problem. The Strider-Lalondes got his younger brother John, and Dirks younger sibling Dave will do everything to get his beloved big bro back.</p><p>Demonstuck belongs to my-friend-the-frog<br/>Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So...yeah...

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if it isn't really good, but this is my first fanfic, so enjoy.

''Fuckin' demonhunters'' you growl, tugging on the chains on your wrists and forearms which keep you from moving. Normal chains wouldn't be a promblem at all, thanks to your supernatural strenght, but these were different. The hunter carved every sigil that could prevent you from escaping in it, as a result you couldn't move a damn inch, even if you wanted to. You struggle to get your arms free again, but only half-hearted. ''Go on. Try as hard as you want to. You won't get free.'' an amused voice from the shadows stated. Damn, you should have seen him, but without your sunglasses even in a pitch-black room the light of the moon makes you nearly blind.

You swing your head to the corner where you heard the voice, and even trough the fucking bright light, you can see the green eyes of the fucker who caught you. You let your guard down for one goddamn second, and there he was, on top of you but not in a good way. He dragged you into this old and dusty factory and chained you to a wall, knowing that you were unable to get free. ''Now, let's get down to _buisness_.'' He chuckled. You raised your head and grinned ''To defeat the huns?'' you joked. But it seems like this fucker is pretty humorless, because the comment earns you a punch in the face. You feel blood dripping down your chin and growl. He bows down. Now his eyes stare directly into yours. 

''No, this isn't a fucking fairy-tale, this is _reality_ , scum.'' he hisses and you feel the heat of his breath on your skin. You look at him in played horror, and protest ''It's not a fairy-tail, that's a kick-ass action movie!'' as a result he kicks you in the stomach. You hiss. ''I get it, I get it. _No jokes_.'' you choke out. ''What do ya want from me?'' you ask. He grins ''Information''. You look him in the eyes. ''Too bad, I don't have any. I'm only a lower demon, _unimportant_ , _unknown_ , ya know? Why should they give me informations. A dirty scum like me-'' he shuts you up with another punch in the face. ''Don't you dare to think I am _this_ stupid. I know you, the feared Dirk Strider, leader of the Strider-Lalondes, one of the most important demon pack in america. Though it's not Strider-Lalondes anymore, is it? Your precious friends were eradicated. Serves them well, trying to pick a fight with a famous demonhunter clan.'' Holy shit this kid was straight up evil. All you could do was glare at him. 

''Okay, you got me. Now it's my turn.'' you snarl. ''Jake English, the leader of the English-Harley-Egbert-Crockers or whatever you call your shitty group of demonhunters. You killed alarming amounts of demons recently.'' he grins a devilish grin, holy shit, he could be a demon. ''We are the EHEC, and you should be scared of us.'' he explains with a smug grin. ''Is that so? Then how come I never heard of you, before you came to america?'' That was stupid of you, because you are the one chained to a wall, you scold yourself. But surprisingly he doesn't puch or kick you another time, no. He only chuckles and pulls something out of his pocket. Oh, shit. It was a injection filled with something you would smell from thousand miles distance. Holy water.

You clench your teeth and hiss, preparing yourself for the pain. ''I'll give you one chance! Where do your fellow demons hide?'' he asks you. You starehim in the eyes, and remain silent. You would never, ever betray your family. English sighs, and rolls his eyes. ''Very dramatic, Strider, but sooner or later you will tell me'' and with that words he stabs te inection into your neck. Your eyes widen upon the feeling of being burned from the inside, and you cry out in pain. As the pain won't stop, you slowly faint away, until everything is black.


	2. Shit's gonna go down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much the beginning of some badassery in the next chapter...

You hear a muffled thump from across the room, and jerk awake. You hiss at the pain in your veins when you move. The holy water is mostly gone, but it still stings like hell when you make a sudden movement. Surprised you notice that you are wearing your shades. Maybe this demonhunter isn't really that bad. Now that you can see again, you examine the factory. It is ridiculously big. The windows are dirty and broken, and everywhere are plants which, you are very sure, shouldn't grow here. You rattle a bit at your chains, just to see if they are still the same pain in the ass. There is a thump again, this time very loud. You look at the direction it came from and aren't very surprised to see that it was English who made the sound. He demolishes a brick wall with kicks and punches and looks really, really pissed. His head jerks to where you sit, and he storms in your direction. ''Mornin' ?'' you want to say, but he punches you in the face before you can make a sound. You are angry now. ''Hey, man, what the fucking hell!'' you shout, but he grips you at your hair and yanks your head back. ''Where is he?'' he spits in your face, looking like he's in a rage.

 

''What?'' you ask him confused. ''I said WHERE IS HE?'' he shouts. You jerk away from him. ''Dude who the hell are you talking about, calm the fuck down!'' He breathes sharp in and out. He actually looks a bit calmer now. ''You really don't know who I am talking about?'' You shake your head. ''No!'' you assure him. He looks at you skeptically. ''It's my little brother, he's kidnapped.'' you look at him confused. ''Your little brother? Egbert?'' you ask him. He nods ''John's bedroom was empty this morning, but there was a name carved into the wall.'' you swallow hard. Could it be? ''Which name?'' you ask him, already knowing the answer. He glares at you. ''Dirk.'' You curse under your breath. ''Oh fuck no. I could have escaped alone, why did he do this?'' you murmur. ''Who? Why did who do this?''

 

You hesitate, unsure if you should tell him. ''WHO?'' he shouts. ''Whoa, easy there! His name is Dave.'' you explain a bit annoyed. ''Dave...Strider.'' Now his expression only shows horror. ''He's my little brother, and it looks like he is pretty pissed that you captured me.'' You can't help but chuckle, what you shouldn't have. You feel a sharp and burning pain at your cheekbone, that makes you hiss. ''That's not funny!'' He spits in your face, in his hand a knife which is, you are sure, cleaned with holy water. You don't flinch. ''I think it is. Me, captured by you, your younger brother, captured by mine-'' your cut of by the knife sticking in your right shoulder. And it fucking HURTS. You don't make a sound, unable to breath in or out. ''Where is he?'' English hisses into your ear. As soon as you find your breath again you answer. ''No idea.''


	3. An unexpected turn (of the point of view)

''Well, well, well, what have we here?'' a male voice pulls you back into consciousness. Your head feels all dizzy, and there is a constant ringing in your left ear, but besides this, you feel alright. You blink a few times until your eyes get used to the low light. Suddenly the voice is right behind you, whispering into your ear. ''Awake yet?'' You flinch, wanting to raise your arms, only to find out that your Hands are tied together. You also feel something weird on your throat, rough and uncomfortably scrubbing. You pull at the ropes, desperate to get free, but you only feel how your wrists start to bleed. You hear a low chuckle, coming from behind you.

 

''I wouldn't do that if I were you.''a low, but young voice says. You feel a hand on your wrist, and you try to pull it away, but the grip of it was to strong. One finger slowly starts to collect blood from your wrist, while the other one graps your chest, and tears your T-shirt, leaving as a result five long rips in the fabric. You hear muffled steps, as the man slowly encircles you, until you can see him fully. He is a young man, roughly in his mid-twenties, blond hair and a beard stubbles, which are a weird contrast to his neat and expensive looking suit, wich seems to glow red in the dark. Opposite to his eyes, which actually glow red, even behind his shades. The man grins and licks your blood of his finger, exposing sharp teeth. ''You're a demon.'' you gasp.

 

Your bro told you about them, and that he fights them, but refused your help, even though you're already sixteen. The Demon chuckles again. ''Call me Dave.'' ''Why did you bring me here?'' you ask Dave, glaring at him. The first thing Jake taught John was: Never trust a demon. ''Hmm, well, your brother fucked a few things up, so you're gonna stay with us until he does what we tell him.'' Now it's your time to laugh. ''My brother would never do anything you tell him!'' you giggle. Suddenly the demon pulls at the chain on your collar and makes you stumble forewards. ''Oh yes?'' the demon hisses, now face to face with you, ''even when we have his precious little brother?'' That hit you hard. You are your brothers only weakness. He would do everything for you. You try to remain with a straight face, but you fail terribly. Dave grins. ''Of course whe have to threaten him a little to get him angry.'' you wonder what he meant by that. You watch him ,curious, when he revealed a camera on a tripod. ''Aaaand, action!'' he shouts. ''Now, now, English! As you can see, we have captured your precious little brother.'' he says, now talking to the camera. ''I wouldn't do anything, but what happened recently, crossed the line.'' you wanted to ask what crossed the line, and, more importantly, he wouldn't do anything to you, _but_?

 

You found out what he meant by it when he kicks you the first time. He aimed at you leg, to bring you down on the ground. The kick hits you so hard that you loose balance and hit the hard stones, trying desperate to keep your head up, so it doesn't hit the ground too. You are crouching in fetal position when his second kick hits you in the stomach, making you spit blood on the floor. He yanks your head up, your hair in his hand, so you look directly into the camera. ''Oh yes English, if you won't let my brother go soon, I wont hold myself back any longer.'' he hisses. Trough the pain you were able to form one more thought, until he hits your head on the ground so hard you black out. 

_''Brother?''_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this is told from Johns point of view.


	4. Batman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is Dirk Strider, and you are batman.

Your name is Dirk Strider and you are fucked. Your little brother decided to go turbo and threat the most dangerous demon hunter of america. Who's also holding you captured right now. Yes, you know. Great story to tell your grandchildren. Oh, wait, what grandchildren? You're going to fucking die in this unholy factory. You are currently staring into the face of Jake English, who is batshit insane, you decide. Holy shit, this sicko is going berserk on you for some reason, and you don't even know why! Hey, it's not your fault his brat has been caught by your bro, it's not like you're his boss! Well, you are his boss, but not right now. ''Where are they?'' The english madman spits in your face. You hiss. ''I already told ya I don't know!'' The brown haired boggart grinned. ''Why should I trust a demon like you?'' He asks. You open your mouth to give a witty answer, but then you realize that there sadly is really no reason at all, so you shut it again. Suddenly an idea comes to your mind.

 

''Summon me.'' You say. He gives you a confused face. ''What?'' he asks irritated. ''Summon me!'' You repeat. ''Why?'' he asks you, unsure where this argument is going. ''Like that, I can only say the truth!'' you explain to English. ''If your fooling me, Strider, you're going to be exorcised so hard, even your grandchildren will feel it.'' he hisses. You look at him unimpressed. ''Yeah, sure. If you're gonna exorcise me, how can I have grandchildren?'' English looked irritated for a short time, then he snapped ''Shut the fuck up, you pretencious dick'' You couldn't help but chuckle. ''So, how do we do that?'' he asked a bit unsure. You looked at him in surprise. ''You never summoned a demon? I thought you and your ''Ebec'' were so awesome.'' He frowns at you. ''It's EHEC! Like that virus. And of course we never summoned a demon, we're killing shit like you, not having a cup of tea with them.'' You shrug, well, you try to and do your best, kinda hard moving your shoulders with tons of chains wrapped around your arms. ''M'kay. First you gotta get those stupid ass chains of me.'' You say. ''WHAT? No freaking way!'' He shouts. ''Woah, woah, calm down there kiddo!'' Looks like you'll have to convince him. ''See, if you're not taking those off, I can't vanish like a proper motherfucker and pop up again, this time in the pentagram!'' you explain, in a very patient voice, as if speaking to a child.'' He looked unsure. ''And how do I know you wont run away?'' ''You wont.'' you say, raising an eyebrow ''but these stupid ass protections will keep me in this fuckin factory!'' without wanting to, you raise your voice at the last bit.

 

English looks at you, arms crossed in front of his chest. ''Alright.'' he murmurs. You grin and watch him as he takes your chains off. He stands out of the pentagram that still keeps you captured. ''Ready?'' He asks. ''I was born ready.'' you say, in an ironic manner, cause you would never use the lamest comeback for real. The black haired hunter huffs and slowly smudges the line of the pentagram drawn with chalk. As soon as the seal is broken, you feel power rushing through you, transforming you into your basic form. Your ears sharpen at the top ends, your pupils become thin, more cat like and you feel your black claws, horns and tail grow. English looks at you, hiding his admiration and fear extremly bad. You could smell his sweat, hear it running down his cheek, and he looks so delicious, like a deer on a silver plate. You wink at him, and vanish. Well, it looks like vanishing to him, but actually you just teleport yourself into the shadow of an old chimney.

 

You send out some of your energy, checking if there really are no exits, and all of it is reflected back, like a bat you use your powers to see, even with eyes closed. You send out some energy again, and notice something. A tiny little space, a hole, broken into the wall. You suppose English did this while he was in rage. There was only one problem. It was right behing the hunter's back. You curse silently. ''Now you've gotta stick with your part of the promise.'' The boys voice echoes through the dark and suddenly you've got a plan. You swish swoosh right behind him and wisper into his ear ''Of course, little one, you've had my word.'' English jerks around and draws his pistols. The moonlight is reflected by the golden surface. You snicker, and summon your katana. Out of flames of course, cause you are a fuckin show-off. You swing the sword over your head, but instead of slicing English in half, the boy has worse reflexes than a daying old sloth, you ram the handle of the sword against the little neglected spot, hitting exact the right place. The wall rumbles and collapses, letting it rain old bricks. ''Cheerio, old chap.'' you lauh in a mocking voice, and swish swoosh away into the dark night. You are batman.


	5. Reversed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk escaped, John's still in the claws of those demons. What now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for taking so long to upload. I'll try to do it more often now.

Your name is Jake English and you are the most complete idiot that ever lived. You broke the first rule. A rule that was taught to you by your master, the old man Egbert, and now you've disregarded that rule just so. ''Never trust a demon'' that's what he grew up with, lived with and was ready to die with, but hell no, you put all his trust in the most dangerous demon pack leader. What did you expect? That he would just sit there, and answer all his questions eagerly?

 

Groaning you push yourself up. Short before Strider vanished, you were thrown over by the collapsing wall. You brush the dust of his clothes, and cough a few times. ''Goddamnit.'' you mumble and were about to leave, to tell the others about you fucking up, but then you see something shiny lying on the floor. You go over to where it is coming from, and are surprised to see a mobile phone, laying on the ground.

 

It wasn't yours, you had it in your back pocket and it was an old flip phone, not a smartphone like that one, and coloured in a dark green with a pentagram drawn on it's back, this one was light orange, and seemed to glow in the dark. ''What the-'' you crouch down to inspect the pentagram. It wasn't something you had seen before, no, it looked unfamiliar and kind of sloppy drawn onto the phone. You wanted to pick it up, but as you touched it, a burning sharp pain rushed through your hand. ''Fuck.'' you hiss. A light pentagram was glowing on the phones back. You take out a handkerchief and wrap it around your fingers. As you touch the phone again, it didn't react this time. You pick it up and hurry to the entrance of the factory. You wanted to show it to Jane, who always knew everything, and see if she could do anything with it.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

''It's some kind of an reverse spell I guess.'' Jane takes off her glasses, which were hanging on a chain around her neck. You often tell her it looks very grandma-ish, but most of the times she flipped you off as an answer. ''Reverse spell?'' You ask. She rolls her eyes, something she often does when someone isnt exactly as intelligent like she is. ''Yes, it's like an anti-demon pentagram, but reversed.'' you frown. ''So it's kind of like an anti-human pentagram?'' Jane nods in approval ''I think so.'' ''Bollocks.'' you murmur. ''So they can put everything we have against them, also against us?'' You look at Jane, hoping she would deny it, but she slowly nods ''I think were even.'' You feel anger rising up inside of you.

 

''Even, _even_?'' You hiss. ''They're supernatural entities for fucks sake! And not only that, but they have John.'' Now Jade, who stood silent in the corner until now, takes a few steps in Jeks direction. ''And whose fault is that?'' You never heard so much anger in her voice. ''I said, **whose fault is that**?'' She doesn't seem very far from snapping. No wonders, since she grew up together with him, raised by the old man Egbert, who's unfortunatly dead now. ''Jade please, I know, it was my fault. I should have protected him. I never should have let that demon escape.'' you try to sound sorry, but your voice cracks just in the middle of the sentence. ''Why did he have to die?'' Jade sounds less angry now, more sad. ''Jake, tell me, why did he have to die.'' her voice cracks, and a tear rolls down her cheek. You take her into your arms. ''I don't know, Jade. I don't know.'' you whisper, slowly stroking her hair.


	6. This isn't good, not a bit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has finally woken up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AaAaHH, I'm so sorry for everything. (also I'm so sorry that I update so belated, but it's finals time)

''Hnngh...'' You shift uncomfortably, as the rope digs into your hands. ''You're not gonna get away with this!'' you hiss at the general direction where you expected the demon. ''Oh but I am.'' a smug voice came out of pretty much the exact opposite direction. You flinch and turn around at once.

''Fuck you.'' you grumble. The floor you're sitting on is cold, but you almost don't notice it, because your body is heated up extremly, mostly by fear, and you're sweating and trying to make out something in the complete darkness. It would have been so much easier if your glasses hadn't been knocked off as you fell down. ''Oh really? I thought you would make an more interesting conversation partner, a shame, really.'' a voice sounded directly next to your ear.

You flinch and almost would have yelped, but you choke on your own sound and only get to bring out a painful gurgling sound that makes you cough. You hear a chuckle from across the room. Suddenly it makes click in your head, and you have to fight back a smile, knowing the demon could see you. You turn to the direction where he chuckled and say ''Please I would never do anything to hurt any of you!'' you cry as helpless as you can.

The demon always took exactly three-to-two seconds to respond.You close your eyes and count to two. Exactly in that second you feel a minimal blow of cold air at your neck. Your eyes shoot open and you turn around so fast, that it could have made a demon jealous, and _kick him right into the face._

A muffled sound of surprise comes out of the demons direction, and you feel how he grabs your ankle painfully tight. ''We have a little rebel here, hm?'' you hear him hiss, slight anger in his voice. ''What can I say.'' you answer cocky. You've decided that playing the helpless fool won't help at all, so you can at least show that asshole what you're capable of. You shoot the foot he grabbed forwards, and meet resistance, as it crushes into his face.

The demon yelps at lets your ankle go in surprise. You instantly roll away from him and sweep onto your feet in one swift motion. The demon growls angry and you hear his feet on the ground as he steps into your direction. He swings his fist into your direction, and you show him your most awesome Matrix move, as you bend your back to avoid it, let your self drop back and kick into the air, directly meeting his fist, and you hear a satisfying crack sound. The demon hisses and you hear him step back in confusion.

You're already celebrating yourself, as you realkize something bad. With your hands tied and your foot in the air, you almost have nothing to support yourself. Your wrists meet the stone floor painfully as you fall. A laugh comes at you from across the room. ''You're doing pretty well kiddo, but this is over your head.'' the demon sounds way too smug.

You force yourself back on your feet and try to locate him, but you fail. He suddenly is extremly quiet and you can't hear nothing. No steps, no breathing, hell, you can't even feel any breeze. ''Gotcha'' A voice breathes directly into your face, and a foot crashes against your knee, forcing you to drop down. ''Fuck no.'' you whisper.

A claw grabs your neck, pressing the side of your face onto the floor. Your back makes a cracking sound and pain shoots through it, as it get's bend painfully. You clench your teeth, and suddenly realize how you are crouching on the floor, and think that this position seems fairly _suggestive._ You push away that though as you hastily try to get your breathing steady. ''Oh sweetheart.'' the demon whispers into your ear. '' _We're going to have so much fun._ ''


	7. John Smartypants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, now that Dirk fled, what's keeping Dave from killing John? Surprisingly much, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is the next one. It's delayed cause I was really sick. But because of that the next chapter comes right after this one. Enjoy?

Sweat runs down your chin, your limbs hurt from being held in an unnatural way too long and you've given up pretty much all hope. The demon that towered over you hadn't said a word since he wrestled you down, and it started to get really creepy.

 

Suddenly you hear a creek coming frow outside the room. The demon hisses surprised as a ray of light fell into the darkness, lighting up their surroundings. Since your glasses got smashed, you're not really able to see anything but a shadowy figure in what you presumed to be a door. _''And what do you think you're doing?''_ A voice like thunder growls through the room. '' _Bro._ '' Comes the breathless reply. 'Bro'? Was that the demons brother? As the figure comes closer, you're able make out horns like those of a ram sitting on both sides of his temples, and a tail with an end that seemed like a tousled mess of fur. You can see his eyes glowing orange in the dark, with thin pupils. But there's also a weird glowing, orange fluid coming from his right shoulder, his face and his wrists.

 

The demon above you shifts in an instant, so that he's facing his older brother, still holding your wrists in one hand and digging one of his knees in you back. ''Dave!'' The other demon shouts angrily. ''Why did you kidnapped him? Tell me!'' he demands with an agressive voice. ''I-I wanted...'' The demon- _Dave_ \- stammers. ''How often do I have to tell you? None of them is supposed to get hurt!'' The other demon hisses. You decide to call him Bro. ''B-but..''

 

''Dave, I know you wanted to help me, but you see...'' Bro's voice is a lot softer now. ''Demon hunters are very dangerous. But if you capture one of them, they'll track you down. If I hadn't escaped, they might have catched you while I couldn't do anything.'' You stare at Bro with wide eyes. This conversation is way too human for your taste. You never heard anything about forgiving or worried demons. They're supposed to care for no one and have no scruples. This had to be some kind of trick. ''But what do we do with him then?'' Your stomach twists when they mention you.

 

Bro glances at him and crouches down. ''John, was it?'' he asks, skeptically looking down at you. You were too afraid to say anything, and just stared at him. ''Dave, let him.'' Dave lets go of your wrists immediatly and steps back. You slowly sit up. Bro looks at you and sighes. ''I- _we're_ -really sorry about what happened.'' he says, a bit akwardly. ''Uhm...'' you glance at him and cough. ''I'm sorry, but I don't believe you...'' Damn it, why did you say that? Your smartass comments were going to be your death someday. Or now. But much to Johns surprise Bro _laughs_. ''You're a lot like your older brother, y'know?'' he chuckles. ''You... _know_ Jake?''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who wonder why Dirk behaves differently than in the previous chapters, is beause he wnats to seem like a responsible adult. What a loser.


	8. Judgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wooooooooooooooooohooooo! Backstory time!!

_''Daniel.'' A well known voice calls out. You turn around ''Amitiel.'' you say, smiling nervously. ''Daniel.'' Amitiel repeats. ''I suppose you know why I'm here.'' You swallow hard. ''No, why should I?'' Amitiel looks at you, with a face as if he's in pain. ''Daniel please.'' he says coming a step closer. ''I'm the angel of truth. You knew it would come to this. Don't try to get out of this now.''_

 

_You slowly back away from the other angel. ''I've done nothing wrong.'' You say, meaning it. ''Nothing wrong?'' Amitiel laughs angrily. ''You mean making a deal with Lucif-Satan'' he corrected himself quickly. ''Only to bring our little brother back isn't wrong?'' He looks at you, hurt. ''And look what you've done. He didn't even come back as an angel, or even a human. He came back as a demon.'' Amitiel was shouting now. Guilt pierced trough you body as you've been reminded of what you've done. ''I KNOW.'' you cried out, angry tears forming in your eyes._

 

 _'_ 'Enough'' _a voice thundered down from what felt like everywhere. You stopped breathing ''M-Michael.'' You whispered. A single white flame appeared in front of you. '_ 'So you declare yourself as guilty?'' _the thundering voice asked. As it spoke, the flame slowly took on the form of a human looking body, even though it still consisted out of fire, let alone the huge wings that came out of its back._

 

 _'_ 'You know that your actions can't be left without punishment, brother.'' _You stare at the ground, not daring to look at the flaming angel. ''Yes.'' You answer, clenching your teeth, your fists trembling. '_ 'You know what comes next.'' _Michael says, and you could have sworn his voice sounded a bit tired. ''Yes.'' You repeat. The flaming figure sighed and reached out a hand to you. You closed your eyes, preparing for what would come. You didn't scream once, not when the white flames burned your body, neither when the ground under your feet disappeared. You fell what seemed endlessly, slowly loosing sight of what you called home. It should've terrified you, yet the only thing you could think about, was what would happen your little brother. You close your eyes and breathe out his name ''I'm sorry Dave.''_

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You wake up with a jolt and shoot up, eyes wide open. Slowly you start to recognize your surroundings and let out a groan. You're laying on a couch, at what you call 'home' at the moment. It wasn't something normal people would call home, probably. It's just a large, worn off storage depot, with rusty walls and a dirty cold stonefloor.

 

Dave is sleeping on a matress laying on the floor and your eyes fall upon the little Egbert boy, who is sound asleep as well, on the only actual bed, with a creaky, rusty frame, his hand cuffed to one of the bedposts. You did that under a lot of apollogizing, trying to explain him the necessity of it, but he just looked grumpy and said nothing. It was actually a surprise that he was able to sleep this easily, but then again the last two days were probably very exhausting, given that he was still just a kid.

 

The dream you had came back into your head together with a sharp pain, that was probably caused by the remaining holy water that flows through your bloodstream. You groan again and glance at Dave. It was a miracle that he never remembered what happened back then. You let out a sigh and lay back down. The next day is going to be a pain in the ass, so you were better off if you went back to sleep. And sleep came faster than you would've expected when you close your eyes, so you welcome it gladly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those wondering, I did not make up Amitiel, he's an actual angel.


	9. Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to John...again?

You shoot your eyes open with a start as something wet touches your elbow. You try to roll away from the source and aim to grab the gun your brother has pressed you to hide under your pillow, but a painful cut into your wrist causes your arm to twist and you give a strangled sound. A smug laugh comes from above you look up through your ruffled bangs, that hang in front of your eyes, into the face of the demon. _Literally_. Strider had squatted down to match your level. He grins at you and huffs through his nose. ''Got a little caught up there, Egderp?'' You scowl at the new nickname and show your teeth. ''You don't look that good either, Strider'' You counter.

 

''What's that on your face?'' You sound perfectly innocent. His hand reflexively shoots up to his face, to see what you meant. ''What are you talking about there's noth-'' His eyebrows furrow and you could bet that, behind the shades, his eyes were narrowed to slits. You bark out a laugh. ''Hahahhaaa, oh man, that was the _oldest trick in the book_! And you call yourself a demon?!'' Dave clenches his teeth and growls. ''Shut up Egderp, I didn't fall for that.'' his voice was a bit akward. ''You totally did.''You answer satisfied and sigh happily.

 

''Are you done with being toddlers now?'' An annoyed voice sounds from above. You and Strider synchronously look up to see 'Bro' carrying a rolled up mattress. He's looking at Dave and you, pointy shades now covering his eyes. Actually, he looks completely different than yesterday. Now that you can see him clearly, he doesn't even seem too intimidating anymore, even with the horns, fangs, claws and tail. He's wearing a black vest over a white T-shirt, with ripped off sleeves and a plain pair of black jeans. He had no shoes on though, he was standing barefoot on the cold floor, his toenails looking more like claws than anything else. Dave's clothes were something entirely different.

 

You don't want to admit it, but _he has style_. His eyes are covered by pointy shades, similar to 'Bros' and he is wearing a black vest that ends at the top of his hips. Under that is a red plaid shirt with black lines, the shirt going all the way to his wrists and ending in a black part, with red buttons on it. His pants were black skinny jeans, and unlike bro, he was wearing black combat boots. And you realize that he was in his demon form as well, which makes you wonder how you could have overlooked that from the start. His tail is black and skinny, ending in a tip like those cartoon-ish devil tails. His eyes aree still glowing red, and his claws had been trimmed down to look like fingernails, only that they're pitch black, almost like they're painted with nail polish. Wait, they were like that naturally right? For a second a mental picture of Dave on a couch in front of the TV, painting his nails while watching romcoms flashes up in your mind, but you put it away quickly, though the idea of it really is funny. His horns are the most eye catching thing about his demon form, you decide. They were pitch black as well, and looked like those of a deer.

 

You decide to mess with him a little. ''Moose?'' you mumble and cock you head questioning. You can see that you hit a nerve. ''No man, it's _deer horns_ are you _blind_?'' he huffs angrily and scowls. ''Oh, sorry.'' You say, not sorry at all. Then an idea pops up in your head and you almost burst out in laugh, which results in you making a strange grunting sound. ''What?'' snaps Dave. '' _Strideer._ '' You whisper breathless. Dave looks outraged. '' **Strideer**.'' you say again. ''SHADDUP.'' Dave shouts and throws himself at you, trying to shut you up by strangling you or something like that, but you quickly shuffle away, which is a bit hard, because your arm is still cuffed to the bed. Dave tries to get closer, but you press your foot against his face and shove him away, making him unable to reach you.

 

''GUYS.'' 'Bros' voice thunders through the building. You both freeze immediatly. You've got to admit, you totally forgot about him while you wrestled with his younger brother. The blond haired demon seems a bit unpleased. He bares his fangs. ''Get ready now, we've got a lot to do.''


	10. Memories of long gone days, or how to be unnecessarily poetic.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, sorry, this chapter is more jam-packed with raw emotions than with good writing, my apologies.
> 
> ALSO: I had some people asking me if I had a tumblr, and yes, I do. It's: http://hat-2.tumblr.com/

There are no words to describe how you're feeling right now, but saying you're angry would come the closest. It was still an understatement though, because what was boiling in your heart wasn't really anger, but more of a seething, burning hatred and rage. A rage against the monsters that kidnapped his little brother and did god knows what to him. You were going to kill those bastards. You were going to kill them dead. What you found this morning on your windowsill, made you snap. It was a note. A tiny little note, with big, horrifying words written on it. **''Come to the shed in the cornfield you found me in, no cheating, or your little brother is going to regret it. -Dirk Strider''** You didn't know if you should cry or scream, so you settled for both.

 

You were lucky everyone was out that morning, to go shopping, or some shit. How could they do that, when something so horrible happened right beffore their eyes? You couldn't believe it, tears of anger on your cheeks. They would have hindered you anyways, they would have told you not to go. Those traitors, you didn't need a single one of them on your side, they should all go die. They never once thought about how you felt when the old man died. It was all about their problems, them being little whiny shits about how they couldn't go on. They never, ever _once_ asked you how you were coping with it. And you had a right to be angry. The old man mattered more to you than to anyone else.

 

He was like a father to you. He was your hero. He was the knight in shining armor that saved you from the streets, when you thought you'd die alone, your only friends being the rats from the sewers. And there he was, reaching his hand out to you, like the escape from all your worries. And you took it, oh yes you did. You did everything to make him proud. You trained day and night. You practiced drawing demon traps until your fingers were bloody and aching and you could do it blindfolded, your hands tied behind your back, with only your mouth. You would kill those bastards, with you left pinky. All your rage and sadness only made you stronger, it only made you into more of a heartless demon-killing-machine than ever before. They should have thought about messing with you twice, those dumb monsters didn't know anything about you.

 

The moment you found the note you had already packed your weapons and armor, you had already went outside to unlock the garage and get your motorcycle. You had already made your plans of killing them in the slowest, most painful way that existed, for taking your mentors most important treasure, his son away. You would protect him with everything you had, and if it was the last thing you'd do, he owed at least that much to your old man. You didn't care about your life or anything, you only cared about one thing: revenge. Revenge for everything they had done to you and John. They would die at your hands, and they would wish they hadn't messed with you. They'd see their mistakes, and they'd never, ever dare to do anything to John again. No demon would ever dare to do anything to the old mans son again. They would all shiver in fear of the thought of what would happen to them if they did. You try to compose yourself while driving to the shed. Those monsters seeing you cry would be the last thing you'd want.

 

But your feelings raged on, you couldn't do anything about it. And at some point, you stopped caring about your pride. It was all unimportant now. All of it. You are surprised that you even had pride to begin with, but you held onto it too strongly. Your pride made you lose that demon, your pride made John get hurt, and you couldn't, under any circumstances let that happen again. So you stop caring. The old man once said, the most dangerous thing was a person who had lost everything he cared aout, but that only made you more confident. Dangerous is what you want to be. Dangerous enough to send all demons back to hell, once and for all. The day is cold, and putting on a shirt hadn't been the best of choices, but it was the thing you could find the quickest, so you went with it. They road on wich you drive is more of a path in the middle of a field, and your bike constantly shakes you, but who cares. Everything that mattered is arriving at that shed the fastest you could.

 

And there you can already see it, it's not a shed at all, but more of a large barn. Those old-fashioned once you always see in the movies, made entirely of wood. It is old already, not in use anymore, so there weren't any animals around that could get hurt in the fight you plan on having with those demonic sons of bitches. It's embarrassing but you always loved animals. Probably because every animal had more heart than any human.They cared, the people passing you on the streets didn't. Not even enough to look at you straight. You arrive, which is a convenient way of escaping those memories. You climb off your bike and head to the large barn, your weapons ready and loaded.

 

You take a big breath, and kick the doors open.


	11. The horror of recognition, or: The National Crybaby-Weenie Day (TNCWD)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaay happy update day.
> 
> Yes, this chapter will involve ass-kicking  
> Yes it will be badass  
> The only question is: Whos ass is gonna be kicked?

You expected a lot of things, but what you didn't expect was John. Well, you did expect him, but not him pointing a gun at your face. ''John.'' You breathe out, lowering your hand. That was a grave mistake, because as soon as you did, a hot claw grabs your wrists and the image of John faints away. You swing your lower half around, your wrists moving in their grip and kick in the vague direction of their face, earning a satisfying crunch. The grip around your wrists loosens just a tiny bit and you yank them away, your hands gliding to the back of your pants. In a swift motion you studied a thousand times you pull both of your pistols out and aim them at what grabbed your arms, and are not surprised to see Dirk Strider standing in front of you, in full demon form.

 

And with full demon form you mean _exactly_ that. His tail is twitching around his legs, his horns are illuminated by a bright orange flame that burns inbetween them, his fingers are sharpening at the end, slowly turning darker in the direction of his claws, and the veins on his wrists are a slick black. His fangs are poking out of his mouth even without baring them, but the most terrifying thing are his eyes. The part that should be white is all orange, while his iris is black. His pupils are nonexistend. It was a horrifying sight, but you were used to it. You didn't hesitate a second with pulling the trigger. Strider moved into a blur and dogded the bullet. He had skill, you ould tell that by looking at his movements, but strangely enough he didn't attack at all. You continue to shoot at him, but he evades every single one of your bullets, until finally you manage to graze the skin of his left arm.

 

He gasped almost not audibly, but he stopped moving. You aim at him and pull the trigger again, but nothing happened. You curse at yourself and try to change the magazine quickly, but Strider immediatley shoots formard and grabs your throat, slamming you agains the wooden wall of the barn. You try to jerk yourself away from his grip, but he snarls at you, and leaves you unable to move. You try to squirm, but your body doesn't move, so it had to be some kind of spell he laid upon you. Demons do that, your old man told you that. You have no choice but to look in the demons terrifying eyes. _''Listen.''_   The demons voice rumbles like a thousand falling rocks. ''Never. Not to you.'' You rasp out. He had a strong grip on your throat, but not strong enough to stop you from breathing. It just made it really hard to catch your breath.

 

''Jake.'' His voice went deeper than just your ears. It went under your skin and gripped your heart with an ice-cold fist. And worst of all, you feel like you heard it before somewhere. ''Jake, _please_.'' He said again, and it was so wrong, no no no. You wanted to shout at him, at the monster that kidnapped John, you wanted to shout at him that he should stop saying your name as if he knew you. ''Take your filthy hands of me you gross monster.'' You hiss, with a dangerous glint in your eyes, but he doesn't. He doesn't move at all, only his eyes darted around, as if he tried to find something in your face.

 

''Let me go. Who do you think you are?'' You try again, your voice trembling with anger, more than with fear. And you see his face drop, his whole body went kind of limp, as if you just said something horrible. You drop to the ground, because you still can't move, but you look up at the demon. ''Where is John, what did you do to him.'' You yell as much as your hurting throat would allow. The monster does not answer instantly, so you open your mouth to ask again, but then he speaks. ''Your brother came to no harm, he is safe.'' The demon says, without looking at you, and you feel a swell of anger and disgust come up, that makes your face burn. ''How could he be safe if he is with someone like you.'' You spit out. It isn't a question, but a statement. But it was the wrong thing to say, because the demons head snaps around, and he lifts up his hand.

 

Your body raises with his palm, as if an invisible force pulls you up. Now that you can see the demons face, you are shocked. You knew a demon could look angry, hell, it wasn't too unusual that you were the reason why they were, but you never heard of a demon that could look heartbroken. Not the normal kind of sadness or fear, but a total rage of emotions on his face, the hurt of betrayal overshadowing all others. ''How _dare_ you say that.'' His voice sounds like it comes out the bottom of his throat, as if he was gagging on his words. ''AFTER I CARED FOR YOU ALL THESE YEARS?" He cries, baring his fangs like an animal caught in a death trap, desperatly trying to defend itself from the inevitable end. _''AFTER ALL I DID FOR YOU?"_ All your anger was gone, you felt noting but a wrenching pain in your gut as you look at the demon-Strider-staring at you with disbelieving eyes.

 

''Did you think you would have survived these godawful years in the sewers if it hadn't been for _me._ '' He speaks again, his voice dangerously quiet now. ''What the devil are you talking ab-'' You cut off your sentence with a choke, as realization dawns in your chest. ''No.'' You breathe out. The demon doesn't take his eyes from you as he changes his form. His fangs shrink, his horns disappear, as does his tail. And suddenly you were looking into different eyes, yet so painfully similar. It's a pair of eyes you knew. You knew them too well. ''No.'' You whisper again. ''Yes.'' The demon answered, with _his_ voice. How dare he use that voice. _''NO.''_ You cry out, tears of anger and despair forming in your eyes. ''NO YOU'RE NOT. YOU'RE NOT HIM STOP WEARING HIS FACE.'' The demon looks back at you with _his_ face in a mask of hurt. ''YOU'RE NOT HIM.'' You yell again, hoping that if you just repeat it, it'll become true.

**_''YOU'RE NOT DANIEL!''_ **


	12. Aw shucks man dis is getting intense bro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeeeaaah, sorry for the delay in updating, I was in cologne yesterday=no wifi
> 
> Also I'm hella sick and eating as much ice cream as I can to make my throat stop hurting.
> 
> Anyways, here's (wonderwall) the new chapter.

Your stomach hurt. You've had bad tummyaches before but this time you were sure you would die. It had only hurt that bad once before, when you ate that piece of rotten flesh. It tasted awful, but you kept forcing the bits you gnawed off down your throat because you were so damn hungry. Daniel told you not to do it, but you didn't listen.

 

Daniel is your best friend, as well as your only friend alongside a few maggots and an old and ill dog that sometimes walks with you when you search for food, and you always make sure to share what little you found with him. Daniel is very intelligent, he told you where to find food, and what you shouldn't eat to avoid getting poisoned. But Daniel wasn't here right now, because unlike you he could leave whenever he wanted. Because Daniel could fly, he told you and you made a promise to not tell anyone, but Daniel is an angel.

 

He told you that when you asked him why he had those beautiful orange wings on his back, and he seemed surprised at first but then he ruffled your hair and said you were a special little boy and that you had a big future coming for you. But now you couldn't live that future anymore because you were sure you would die before you reached it. But there is the sound of footsteps in the mud and even though it hurts you force your head up one more time. And there he is, his beautiful orange eyes glowing in the dim moonlight, and something was wrong so wrong, because his skin isn't that beautiful warm brown anymore, no it's like a darkness crept over it, infesting his veins and worst of all there are no wings anymore.

 

His wings, his precious wings he held so dear are gone. ''Dan-iel...'' You manage to gag out , and he squats down in front of you and cups your cheek with his warm hand. ''Jake, I'm sorry.'' He sounds like he just cried and it makes Jake recoil. ''I'm sorry but I can't keep my promise.'' A tear rolls over his cheek, but he smiles nontheless. ''I won't be able to fly you out of here after all.'' He gives a laugh that sounds like he wants to scream. You want to say something, just _something_ , but he puts his hand over your mouth to shush you and suddenly you feel drowsy.

 

''But there is still something I can do for you.'' He murmurs and closes his eyes, and suddenly you feel terribly sleepy, and you just have to to shut your eyes and embrace the darkness. The impulse is to strong, you can't fight it, even though it's the last thing you wanted right now. Your eyelids flutter and the last thing you see is Daniels face, a grimace of pain and heartbreak, leaning over you, and you feel the softness of his lips touch your forehead. Then everything was gone and you were floating in seemingly endless darkness.

 

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The memories come back in a painful rush, and you can't take your eyes of the demon standing in front of you, that wasn't a stranger at all. ''Do you understand now?'' Strider-Daniel-asks you. ''It can't be you're lying.'' You try to deny it but a voice in the back of your head keeps telling you the truth. ''I fell, I became- _this_ '' Daniel disgustedly points at himself, even though he shifted into his past form earlier ''and I _still_ tried to protect you!'' He doesn't sound angry anymore, he only sounds tired, like he hadn't slept in an eternity.

 

''Daniel, why-'' You try to ask, but he cuts you off. ''Don't call me that, my name is Dirk Strider.'' His voice was his own again, a growl accompanies his words. ''But why.'' It isn't even a question, just a desperate try to understand what was going on. ''I had to go, I was just a passer-by on my way to hell.'' Dirk says, his voice grim. ''I was like a death row convict on his way to the gallows.'' You sneer at that metaphor.

 

''Only that you're not dead.'' Dirk looks away, and you feel how he loosens his magic grip, making you stand on your own two feet again. You hold your left arm where he landed a hit in your brawl earlier, it hurts pretty bad and you were almost sure it was broken. He looks at you with something similar to worry. Maybe it wasn't even just something similar but exactly that. ''You're hurt.'' He says, it's a statement not a question, and he sounds like he just pointed out a new haircut or something, but you're still not letting down your guard. ''Well, no shit detective, you too.'' You say, pointing at the bullet wound with your healthy arm.

 

He looks at it and tries to wipe away the orange blood that covers it, failing ridiculously. ''It's nothing.'' He says and you believe him, because you know he had been through worse, though now it's akward to say that _you've been some of the ''worse''_. You don't look at each other for a long time and an unsettling silence filled the air, until finally you break it. ''This won't stop me from hunting you, you know. You still have my brother.'' Dirk looks sad, but it seems like he expected that topic to come up soon. ''No, we haven't. My lil' bro dropped him off at your place a few hours ago.'' You do nothing to mask your surprise, your mouth is probably hanging open leaving you looking like some kind of dumb fish.

 

He doesn't laugh though, instead he takes a step in front of your direction, and you reflexively try to grab your guns, but they are still lying in a dark corner, where you dropped them before. But he isn't trying to attack you at all. He lowers his head, as if he's bowing and holds out his fists to you, so you can see his wrists lying open.

 

''To condone for the sins of my little brother I'm offering myself as your prisoner.''


	13. James

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, first of all I'm terribly sorry. To be honest, I totally ran away from writing this. I'm really sorry, it won't happen again. So here have a mega-giga chapter as an apology.

The officer at the airport looked at the man standing in front of him and back to the ID he had just handed him. The man on the picture was the one standing in front of him, no doubt. He had the same blue eyes and black hair, even the same hairstyle. He looked a bit more muscular in flesh than on paper, but there was no denying it. The officer forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. ''Welcome to Australia Mr. Wortmore, have a nice day.'' The man grabbed his ID and gave a somewhat smug smile back. Something was definetly fishy about that guy.

 

James Egbert put his ID back into his wallet, forcing himself to not laugh, and failing miserably. He didn't understand why everyone he came across thought him suspicious, he always tried to look as classy as he could. Maybe it was just his aura that repelled people. He walked through the airport with a bright smile on his lips, before he came to a stop in front of a bakery. He chewed on his lip while locking his eyes on a choclate muffin. He normally prefered to bake his goods on his own, and thought himself rather good at it, but he didn't have any time lately. A shame really, his Twenty-Eighth birthday had been just a week ago, and he didn't have the opportunity to celebrate it yet. On his own, of course. It's not like he had anyone to celebrate it with, or at least no one that knew his real birth date.

 

That was the thing with his profession, he couldn't trust anyone, not even his best friends. That's why there wasn't anyone that even knew his real name. ''Not anymore.'' He thought bitterly. He came to the decision to buy the muffin, handing the chubby cashier his money in exchange, when suddenly one of his phones rang. Brandons, he remembered, quickly flipping it open. ''White?'' He answered, his fake name on his lips like it was his real one. ''Heyo Brandy.'' A womans voice came from the other end of the line. ''Rebecca, to what do I owe the favour?'' He says, biting into the muffin. ''We need your help over here, theres a demon that infiltrated the police in Virginia.'' James frowned, even though his conversation partner couldn't see it.

 

''Aw really? But I just arrived in Australia, I was hoping for a day off!'' Rebecca sighed too. ''Sorry, no can do, it's urgent, there were deaths already.'' James grumbled and took another bite of choclate muffin. ''Mmmh-mhh I got it, I'll be there okay?'' ''Thanks Brandy, you're a real buddy.'' The woman said in a relieved voice. James hang up, flipped the phone shut and shoved it back into his pocket. He finished the rest of his muffin and wiped the crumbs of his lips with the back of his hand. He crumbled the paper in the other one and threw it into a nearby trashcan, heading back to where he came from to search for the next flight to America.

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It was freezing, James breath came out in huffs as he shouldered the corpse, trying to get it to his car. This one had been a real pain in the butt to find and kill, he spent two months undercover in the slovenian military to get a lead on him, and when he tried to take him out, he injured his shoulder. It wasn't too bad, but the blood wouldn't stop flowing, and he was in danger to pass out, right next to a body, and he didn't want to take that risk, so he sewed the wound shut as good as he could, with a hobby sewing kit from the super market, using his non-dominant hand.

 

Now he had to get the dead monster into his car and dispose of it as always. He grunted and heaved the body into the trunk of his old Porsche and slammed it shut, then he took out his cellphone and dialed a number with his thumb in a swift motion. ''Kje hudiča si ti?'' He yelled into the phone. ''Oprosti, nekaj sem moral urediti.'' The man on the other line sounded scared. ''Boli me, pohiti jebote!'' James responds angirly and hangs up. He had an expression, that would make even the bravest man shiver in fear, and he wasn't afraid to break anyones neck right now. ''What a shitty day.'' He thought.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The flies buzzed around the boy lying on the floor, and James would have thought he was dead, if he didn't shift painfully slow, to face him. James breathed in loudly as he saw the kids face. His cheeks were sunken in, his hair greasy and full of dirt, but his eyes shone in bright green, looking like they held a soul too old for the body of a child. James couldn't fight his desire to step closer and crouch down, looking at the boy with curiosity in his eyes. The boy raised a trembling hand, and the older man forced himself to not jerk away as the bone like fingers ghosted over is cheek, reeking of ilness and death. ''Your...f-ace'' The boy breathed, his eves locking on something they shouldn't be able to see.

 

James held his breath, his own fingers touching the spot on his face where a demon once slashed his cheek with his claws, leaving a scar that couldn't be seen by normal humans. But this boy could see it, against all odds. The demon hunter shut his mouth and stood up. He reached out his hand to the boy laying on the floor. ''Come with me. I will teach you to use your talent for something good. I will help you survive, give you a home and care for you.'' The boys eyes widened and he hesitated for a split second, before he weakly grabbed the mans hand. James pulled him up, he didn't weigh much more than a toddler, and carried him on his back. ''Whats your name?'' James asked him, not really expecting an answer. ''Jake.'' The boy said. ''My name is Jake.''

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There was a gun pointed at his face, but he didn't really seem to mind. Rebeccas grip on the handle was sturdy, her eyes showing no mercy. ''You were lying. There is no Brandon White, is there.'' It was a statement, not a question. James raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, his arms crossed. ''No shit, Sherlock.'' He sighed and rolled his eyes. ''And may I know why that is a big deal?'' Rebecca let her expression slip for a split second, showing absolute rage in her eyes, but she regained her unimpressed face quickly. ''Why? Because I thought I could trust you.'' She grunted.

 

James laughed out loud. ''Trust? Me?'' He looked honestly amused. ''Oh that's priceless!'' He grinned. ''Don't you know honey, in this profession you can't trust anyone.'' She clenched her teeth. ''You bastard.'' Her voice was shivering, like a volcano short before errupting. ''You-'' James took a step forward, looking her directly in the eyes. ''It's your fault for thinking that you know me.'' The sentence seemed like it flipped a switch in her brain, and she brought the gun down, stepping forward as well, her was face a battlefield of emotions, rage being the most dominant. ''YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH I'LL KILL YOU YOU BASTARD!'' She raised the gun again. ''GO SAY HELLO TO THE DEVIL FOR ME YOU-''

 

She couldn't end her sentence. Her eyes wandered down to her stomach, body trembling. The knife that stuck out of it was still in James hand, his expression stony, without any trace of sadness or regret. The blood dripped down the handle, also spluttering over James fingers. Rebeccas legs gave in and she dropped to the floor like a sack of rice. ''Oh dear.'' James sighed. He brought out a handkerchief and wipeed his hand. ''I can assure you, my mother was actually a very nice person.'' He dropped the handerchief, and it fell on her face, covering her lifeless eyes. ''Damnit, if this continues I might start smoking from the stress.'' James scoffed and turned around, leaving Rebeccas corpse behind him.

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Jake laughed happily as he sat on the set of swings on the playground. He didn't show any resemblance of the boy in the sewers that was more dead than alive. In his arms he held a fragile body, the one of a small girl. ''Will she be okay?'' He asked, looking at his father. James smiled back and nodded. He lit the cigarette between his lips, inhaling the smoke. Jake looked at the baby with a fascinated face.

 

James had saved her from a pack of demons that had been involved in human trafficking. He promised her dying mother to take care of her baby, that lay crying in a puddle of blood. James had taken her in temporarely, just until they found a better place for her. ''Then again, Jake could use some company for when I'm gone'' James thought. He was away constantly, given his profession. ''What am I thinking.'' He scolded himself ''I can't turn my place into an orphanage.''

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The two children sat around the kitchen table in the small but pretty house that James had bought a year ago to give the kids a place to call home. Jane had started walking two years ago, at the age of one, and Jake turned ten this year. In the end they had to keep Jane, after she caught a fairy in their garden, exclaiming that she found a really pretty girl butterfly. James had killed the fairy shortly after that, telling Jane that she 'flew away to her friends' because the bite of a fairy was deadly, and Jane had already been close enough to death once.

 

Jake had started his hunter training and he was an excellent student. James couldn't be more proud of him. He smiled at the two kids that were eagerly drawing with crayons and pens, resulting in a very colouful outcome. ''Papa?'' Jane asked, looking up to him. ''Yes my dear?'' He asked. ''Papa, why are you crying?'' James sat up straight, taken aback by what the girl just said. ''W-what?'' He asked, touching his cheeks and feeling the wetness of the tears. ''Oh-it must be an allergy or something. It's fine.'' He said and wiped away his tears quickly. The two children looked at him with worried faces for a second but then returned to drawing again.

 

''Ah.'' James thought. ''I can't let the kids see me like this.''

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jade pulled another fairytale book out of the book shelf. James sighed. ''But we already have so many of them.'' He tried to argue with the girl, but she pouted. ''But this one has many that I don't know yet!'' She said, extending the 'a' in her Puerto Rican accent. ''Fine whatever.'' James gave in. ''I'll buy it.'' Jade grinned widely. ''She really has a smile like the sun'' James thought. It was a miracle, since she had been through a lot. Her parents were 'good friends' of Harry Smith, one of his fake personas. But they had died on a hunt a year ago when Jade was over at their place to play with her new best friend Jake. He didn't have any choice but to take her in as well.

 

''How was that? 'I can't turn my place into an orphanage'?'' James sighed as he watched how Jade showed her book to the other two kids that were looking through the bookstore. With thirteen years she was almost the same age as Jake, who had only turned twelve. They threw a big party, but in the end it was just the four of them, since he didn't have any friends from school, because he didn't ever go to one. But it was still a fun time. Jane was only five, but she could already read, so she was allowed to choose one book as well.

 

She seemed to have decided for a childrens book called ''The story of Charly Chicken'', while Jake had taken some teens fantasy book about a monster slayer. James chuckled. ''How very fitting.'' He thought. ''But I'm sure the monsters that Jake had slain were way more real than those.'' He hurried after the kids, that already ran to the counter to buy the books they had chosen.

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James opened the front door to find a bundle of cloth. A bundle of cloth that moved and wasn't as much a bundle of cloth but actually a baby wrapped in a blanket with a single sentence wrote on a ''congratulations it's a boy'' card pinned to it. 'It's yours.' James panicked. He might have been a well known demon hunter, but nothing in his life had prepared him for a situation like this.

 

He quickly picked up the baby, that surprisingly hadn't started to cry yet, and looked down the street, but there was no one to be seen. He closed the door and turned around, just to see Jake right in front of him, his face a mask of confusion. James shrugged helplessly and Jake stood on his toes to see what James held in his arms. His confused expression grew into one of pure joy. He turned around and jumped into the air. ''I GET A LITTLE BROTHER!'' He yelled happily. James just shut his eyes and wished all of it to be a dream, but the baby looked at him with clear bright blue eyes.

 

''I guess theres no denying it, is there?'' He said, his voice somewhat exhausted. Jade had come downstairs to see what the ruckus was all about, carrying Jane on her back. She looked at the baby, then at James, back to the baby and back to James. After a moment of silence she raised her voie. ''He looks a lot like his father?''

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The hunt had gone wrong. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. It was supposed to be an easy hunt, Janes first big one. Her present for her nineteenth birthday, but it had gone wrong. The demon wasn't a small fry as they thought. Now they had been seperated and James could only hope that the kids were alright. ''At least Jade and Jake are with her.''He tried to calm himself down. The demon had shot him into his shoulder and he was loosing to much blood to quickly.

 

The floor of the old factory was dusty and uneven. He tripped over a bump in the floor, and fell over, cursing silently, slowly getting up to his knees. But there was a click and now someone was pressing a gun into his back. ''Stay down.'' The demon hissed smugly. He had him at gunpoint, and James wasn't even trying to doubt that the demon was willing to pull the trigger at any second. He cleched his teeth and shut his eyes. He thought of Jake and the others, lost in this building. He needed to help them, if he could only reach his knife in time. ''Stand up and come with me, slowly.''The monster holding the gun demands, but James wouldn't have any of that.

 

''The hell will I do!'' He yelled, turning around and grabbing his knife. The gunshot rang through the empty halls of the factory, the horror of the noise filling every inch of the building. The demon fell over, the knife stuck in between his eyes. James lay on the floor, the blood pouring out of the wound in his chest. His face was twisted in pain, his glasses broken on the floor.

''I'm-sorry.'' He breathes, even though no one could hear. ''I'm sorry kids...I'm not gonna come home this time-''

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He didn't want to come to the funeral anyways.

 

The rain was seeping through Jakes jacket. But Jade said she couldn't go alone, so he came anyways. Everyone was dressed in black, most of the people holding umbrellas over their head. They all stood around his grave, watching a priest utter senseless and useless payers. Everything was useless now. Nothing mattered.

 

Jake didn't even look at the grave, he just stared at the empty space in front of him, not blinking, not breathing. If he just stayed like this, then maybe, maybe he could be dead too. Maybe he would see him again then, if he just pretended long enough. Jade grabbed his arm and hid her face in his shoulder, John and Jane stood on his other side, both sobbing silently, holding each others hands as if they were their only lifeline, their only connection with what kept them breathing.

 

Everyone was grieving, everyone even though they didn't even know him like that. Jake cleched his fists. They didn't even know who he was, they didn't even know what kind of person he really was. They didn't even know his name, they didn't even put the right one on his grave. It wasn't even their fathers grave, their father had to be somewhere out there, he had to be alive somehow. He had to. A single, hot tear slid over Jakes cheek.

 

He didn't want to come to the funeral anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Vague) Translation of the Slovenian part.
> 
> Kje hudiča si ti? - Where the hell are you?
> 
> Oprosti, nekaj sem moral urediti. - I'm sorry, I had something to take care of.
> 
> Boli me, pohiti jebote! - I don't care, fucking hurry up.


	14. In the beginning there was nothing (nothing but death)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before you guys ask me, yes, I had given up on this fanfiction, and yes, I planned to discontinue it. But surprise!! I didn't. So enjoy this brand new chapter of a totally changed writing style (oups).

Needless to say, the way back home was the most akward thing imaginable. Jake was walking ahead with his hands in his pockets, trying to look everywhere but Dirk, who seemed just as uncomfortable. He had his hands cuffed behind his back and was sauntering a step behind Jake, humming a made up tune to fill in the silence.

 

Earlier, Jake had called Jane to make sure the demon wasn't trying to trick him, but she said that John did in fact turn up at their doorstep, oblivious to how he came to be there. After a few more seconds in silence, Jake cleared his throat loudly. ''So, uh, you're...Daniel?'' He asked, and immediately regretted it when he saw the demons face. ''I mean uh-'' He tried again, but Dirk interrupted him. ''It's fine.'' He said and took a deep breath. ''Yes, I used to be Daniel. Emphasis on used to be. Not anymore though I-no, let's start at the beginning.'' Dirk decided.

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Daniels ears wouldn't stop ringing. He was running, running as fast as his feet would take him, but it wasn't fast enough. The feeling of fire on his skin, the smell of burnt hair and feathers piercing into his nose. His wings wrapped around his body, shaking, trying to protect the faint beat of a heart in his arms. Tiny hands desperatley clutching onto the fabric of his clothing, a small mouth pressed together, careful to not release a sound as if the small mind understood what was happening. Tears welling in big, red eyes, a burning fire behind them. He couldn't, couldn't ever afford to stumble, to fall, to lose this. This is what he was meant to do, what he had to do, he kept telling himself.

 

There was an explosion close to his left, flames of all colours imaginable and unimaginable bursting into existance, almost throwing him of his feet. No, he told himself, ou can't stop you can't look, you have to keep running. Running over stone dust and dead bodies, unable to spend a glance to what could be his brothers and sisters under his feet unable to stop and fight, unable to let himself see, unable to let himself feel. Unable. Desperation, determination, fear and hope were the only things left to him, the only things that matter, the only things that could save him. The small body in his arms shook, sobbing and hiccuping, crying to itself. Daniels lips parted by themselves, a melody older than he himself than any living being formed itself, carrying across the destruction and death, the bundle in his arms stilled and listened. Daniels legs could take no more but he couldn't stop running, couldn't stop.

 

His body was on fire, slowly burning the life out of him, but he didn't care. His life for the one in his arms, it was a trade he could bear with, as long as he just continued running. There was another burst of fire behind him, closer this time, too close. He needed to be faster, faster to escape this. There was a silhouette of light in the distance, light that wasn't light, burning in the colours of pure hope, burning in is eyes. The second it appeared it vanished, leaving behind a faint feeling of something that had once been, but will never be again. Daniel couldn't care, couldn't stop. He had to keep going, had to get to the end of this endless battlefield. And then came the explosion. It was sudden, brighter than the sun itself, and right in front of Daniels eyes. He cried out, felt the fire on his skin, on his very soul, and then the ground disappeared under his feet for seconds, his torn up body was thrown through the air, his arms pried open.

 

And as he came crushing into the ground, breaking the last of his bones and hope, he could not feel the heartbeat in his hends, he could not feel the life in his arms. Could only see, see a small body being eaten by flames, see a life disappear in the fire, and then, his eyes burned with the rest of his body.

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He only opened his eyes to realize they were gone. There was darkness where ight should have been, black where colours should have shined. He wanted to reach up and claw at his face, he wanted to touch it to feel that he was mistaken, that he was dreaming, but he couldn't. He couldn't feel his right arm below his elbow, his left arm was burning, his skin must have been on fire, because even the faint touch of air brought agony to his body. He understood that he was laying down, and forced his body up. He needed to get out of here, wherever here was, and find him. He couldn't have been thrown away a lot further than him.

 

There was dust and broken ground below his feet. Or rather, his foot. He tried to kneel up, and heard the most sickening sound he could ever think of and felt the excruciating agony in his whole lower body. He cried out and fell over, breathing coming too fast, his heart beating hard enough to burst out of his chest. There were burning tears coming out of what were once his eye, and he forced himself forward, his foot pushing his body further, oped wounds scraping over gravel and stone. He had to keep going, had to find him. His hand reached out, shakingly feeling the ground. He felt his stumped fingers bump against something, and his breath stopped. He could almost not feel anything, his skin was too burnt, but he could make out a small, disfigured form, still burning hot, and he felt his insides corrupt.

 

He turned away and threw up onto the ground, his whole body shaking with the full force of his sobs, and he cried out in anguish, bashing his head against the ground. Refusing to understand, trying to make his head stop working. He didn't want to understand, he didn't want to know, he didn't want to see. He only wanted _him_. He would give everything he had left, he would give his very soul, if he could only bring him back. **Would you now**. Yes I would. **Would you be willing to give up your existance for him?** _Always._


End file.
